


bar 1989

by manny pardo (dismalisland)



Category: Hotline Miami, hotline miami 2
Genre: It's basically just manny and evan, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 04:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7085488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dismalisland/pseuds/manny%20pardo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'m bad at summaries, but basically, it's just manuel and ev being good ol' buddy chum pals except its a lil gay</p>
            </blockquote>





	bar 1989

**Author's Note:**

> i'm dead inside its 1:34 and ive decided to write this

Beer makes you laugh. Your laugh makes him laugh. You're both drunk.

It started off as a nice night at the bar, discussing dumb shit, like what he was doing when you called him earlier. All he did was laugh, shrug and look you right back in the eyes. And you looked him right back in the eyes. And you kept that eye contact with two exhausted smiles until he laid his head on the table and pretended to snore. It was late at night. There were only 3 other people in the bar. Two, a man and a woman, calmly sat in the corner talking about one of the new movies coming out. You take a peek over to the other man's table while your partner pretends to snore. But the man is already gone. Oh.

You look back to Manny, and you think he may actually be asleep until you dink the bottom of your glass on his head and he reaches his hand up and grabs for it, making you snicker and smirk as you move it away from his grabby hands. After a while, you let him have it. He grabs the neck of the bottle, and sits up, taking a swig from your bottle. YOUR bottle. 

He's done this before. And at this point? You don't care. He knows you don't like germs. He knows a lot of things about you. Like what time you get up. How you like your clothes washed (Though he never washes them). What kind of movies you like. Your favorite meal. Your favorite snack. Everything. He knows everything. You've let this man into your heart and he's earned your trust. You love him. 

You got lost in your thought. Damn it.

You look back up at him. He's smirking at you. You roll your eyes and sit up. He watches you the entire time. You know that look. You shake your head no. He shakes his head yes. You feel him kick the side of your leg. You glare at him. He winks. 

You loose it. You cover your mouth and hide your face, yes, but you loose it. You hear him chuckle, and he mummbles "What's wrong, Ev?". You love his voice. It's deep and pretty. It has a calm but raspy tone to it. He speaks so sweetly to you like a mother would speak to her child. You love it but you hate it. 

You jolt up when he stretches and kicks your leg on purpose. You look at your watch...2:12. You could have sworn it was 1:00 5 minutes ago. Time flies when you're having fun, you suppose. You call his name and he looks over to you. You show him your watch. He cusses. He likes to get back to the apartment at 1:30 so you can both have "fun" and he can still get a good night's rest. He nods to you, and pushes himself up from the chair. You do the same, and grab at his hand when you're both standing. He finally notices, grabs your hand, wishes the 'tender a nice night, and walks out the door with you, your head leaning on his shoulder. 

He still doesn't notice you stole his coat and have been wearing it the entire time.

He's a dumbass detective who could be fired for incompetence and misconduct at any time, but...

He's YOUR dumbass detective who could be fired for incompetence and misconduct at any time.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaa


End file.
